


Captain America: Civil Society

by peoriapeoria



Series: Fitter of the Species [40]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Circus, Crossover, Gen, History, Psychologists & Psychiatrists, Public Policy, Science
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:42:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21773155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peoriapeoria/pseuds/peoriapeoria
Summary: Sometimes not acting is as important as Assembling. The Inhuman|Terrigenesis event continues to reverberate and questions of Mutant rights are asked again.
Relationships: Bruce Banner/Steve Rogers, Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier
Series: Fitter of the Species [40]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/49140
Kudos: 1





	Captain America: Civil Society

Captain America: Civil Society

The team, including Bruce who hadn't been on the mission, and Phantastique wearing a fresh cowl and clean sweats, were sprawled around the common room. The main famished inhalation of food was over, and now people were picking at morsels that interested them. Steve and Bruce were eating from one large plate to which Bruce kept adding Steve's favorites. Clint had not stretched out with his head in Phil's lap but was clearly considering the possibility. Vision was trying to assist Wanda in her gathering of tidbits. Sam, Natasha and Barnes were having a rolling upsmanship royale, interspersed with Natasha's conversation with Steve.

Phantastique reloaded her plate strategically and sat back to watch the others. Dr. Banner had his shirtsleeves rolled back, revealing a dragon knotted and coiled on his left forearm. She ate, not thinking about too much. Before she left, she'd compose her after action. Steve allowed that her coming in for debriefs when things went as expected made less sense. Instead, she came in for team training and got updates then. Friday didn't like it, not that he'd said anything. She'd not figured out just what he'd been before the Avengers. Somebody who was used to being on the Needs to Know list. That the Avengers would need someone like that on support was understandable, just as she had to set his teeth on edge. He did a good take on cordial despite that.

Slowly Wanda and Black Widow started the drift breaking up the team-in. Phantastique took it as her cue to retreat and get onto the after action. Vision and Barnes packed up the best of the leftovers for the common fridge, trusting Steve, Clint and Bruce to finish the more demolished items. Clint migrated into Phil's lap, looking at the last remnants of food.

\-----------------

People gathered in the park, lifting the embroidery hoops above their heads. Some pieces of fabric had names; others had images, faces, others various sorts of logos. There had been no explanation for people suddenly having powers. Very few had been teens, most were mature adults. No one knew where they'd been taken, and none had been returned. The gathered people used old school techniques of protesting, of repeating words from a speaker through the crowd. Done, they dissipated.

In another place, a vigil was held at night, the people cupping their cell phones instead of candles. They murmured the places people had been picked up from.

Steve touched the back of her head. "Phil, the Inhuman situation needs more transparency."

"Sean Glas needs less." Phil pinched the bridge of his nose. "Sorry. Talk to me, I won't snap again."

Steve smiled. "Sean Glas, really?" She sat, looking at the multitude of HUD around Phil's desk.

"He's not invisible, especially not after meals. His circulatory system ebbs in and out of view, so it's hoped he'll be able to control things with practice."

"Are all of the retrievals S.W.O.R.D.?"

"That are being protested? Yes. Has S.W.O.R.D. found everyone? Doubtful." Phil chorded with his left hand, pulling up a world map. "Within the continental United States, response times are within minutes. The amount of damage that results within that window-"

Steve had read the reports. It was how these assemblies knew to gather. Everyone just about was a mobile news bureau. That could have been helpful in 1937. "Still no idea how to find them sooner?" What was carrying the Terrigenesis? The Atlanteans hadn't had further cases for a while, suggesting either everyone with the genes had transformed, or the fish they were eating weren't still the ones contaminated.

"They can tell when the crust forms, which allows them to get a team into the area. If it was more precise, I'd be concerned about someone else picking them up."

Steve considered that. "And the ones S.W.O.R.D. isn't finding?"

"Agencies of other governments are securing their own citizens." Phil paused. "Persons within their spheres of influence."

Steve contemplated how many genies and how many lamps. "What happens to the people S.W.O.R.D. finds?"

"They'll be trained. Those that want can join up."

"And those that don't?" Steve had volunteered, but these people had just been living their lives. "Do Drs. Simmons and Morse have more on how many people could be affected? Or an idea on how to stop people from being affected?"

"The Inhumans have been set up in a new home. I'm not sure how they'd accept these accidental exposures. I'm sure they are working on both questions."

"But you aren't S.W.O.R.D. so you don't know what they've learned." Steve had torn SHIELD to the ground, and a replacement agency had been forged from the remnants.

"I made my choice, the Avengers Initiative."

"And I'm glad to have you." Steve looked at the HUD. "Don't work too late."

Phil smiled, resuming his work.

\-----------------

"End program." Steve dropped into a sweep kick, then popped back up. They had rules on the common floor, but after watching that... "How representative is the stuff I saw?"

"I front-loaded the items that were ambiguous. It's not a broad range, just pervasive." JARVIS answered.

The stoking of hate sadly was not a thing of the past. People might think mutants were different, a reasonable fear. The Terrigenesis events were being used as propaganda. "Is Tony in his workshop?"

"Don't answer that, JARVIS." Tony swept out of the elevator. "You do know about not feeding trolls on the internet?"

"That's well beyond trolls, Tony." Steve knew she was pointing out the obvious, but Tony started it. "You spying on me?" Steve smiled.

"I'm serious. No one wins 'debating' creationists."

The Butler Act might have been overturned after the Scopes trial, but the loss had had consequences. "I'm no more considering debating them than throwing the first punch. I'm taking suggestions in between."

"You don't ask easy questions." Tony vaulted the couch, bouncing a few times as he landed on the seat. "What if they're right but backward? Do we know Inhumans aren't the source of mutants?"

"Both are people just like the rest." Steve knew Tony was goading avocationally.

"Guess you really aren't special, not for being a science experiment, anyway." Tony waxed. "Aliens got there first." Tony turned on a dime. "That's a narrative that needs to be controlled. You weren't around for Alien Autopsy."

"So, how does one wrest a narrative from trolls?" Steve had studied the way Tony had made the press dance to his tune.

"Tell a better story. Block the receptors so their poison can't gain traction." Tony sprawled. "It's more difficult than misdirection."

"What was it like in 2003?" Steve was conscious that history books only caught so much and, usually, not that quickly.

Tony looked back blankly then smiled. "Movie night made an impression on you. The movie left out a lot, not about them, probably them too; the Daily Bugle's imprecations of Spider-Man are a shadow but then J.J. Jameson is selling papers. JARVIS, check Jonah's editorials, regarding mutant or anti-mutant sentiment." Tony tilted his head back and forth. "Actually, maybe things changed shortly after that, not the movie but the Fantastic Four. I wasn't paying a lot of attention."

"While his editorials against Spider-Man overlap with usages by anti-mutants, editorials against mutants weren't focused on their mutanacy but their actions." JARVIS offered.

Steve asked, "Actions?"

JARVIS intoned, "Property damage or criminal action. Interestingly enough, those aren't confounded."

\-----------

Clint smiled as the team piled into the quinjet. "One pickup and then Institute within 10 minutes." He'd been in the cockpit already to give the craft a workout when Bruce called a situation. He lowered and popped the door for Phantastique to gauntlet assist 'hop' inside. Clint gave Steve a chance to bring her up to speed while getting out of the city. "Non-newtonian fluid? Not fig bar filling?"

"Did Bruce specify shear thickening or pseudoplastic?" asked Phantastique.

"Maybe. Run by the differences for us," led Steve.

"Shear thickening means it becomes more solid under stress. Silly putty stretches slowly but snaps when pulled sharply. Running on cornstarch. Pseudoplastic runs only when enough force is applied."

Clint looked down at a collection of old brick buildings connected by sidewalks with trees holding the center. "Which building did he say?"

A blue blur flew by. "Nevermind." Dr. McCoy had come from under the tree canopy. He rolled down a building in a nice display of acrobatics. Clint set down where he hoped would be out of the conflict. Quicksilver and Vision sped out in their ways, the rest of the team running after them.

Hulk was smaller than usual, though very green. He was playing pattycake? with a very large, very sparkly blob. "Cap?"

"Don't assume it's safe." Steve ran to Beast who had their best intel. "Vision, be our eyes above."

"On it, Captain." He lifted to one side of the sunlight streaming in from the central gap where the canopies didn't meet.

Clint thought this couldn't be a pseudoplastic since Hulk smacking it didn't make it runny. Explosive arrow?

It lunged at Natasha. Clint shot ahead of her, putting two arrows into a trunk for handholds. He followed them with alternating arrows she scrambled up. "Cap, we got a play?" Barnes was escorting people away from the conflict, Beast and Hulk had a convo, Widow was perched above the blob.

"Phantastique, be prepared. Beast and Hulk are bringing back liquid nitrogen." Steve informed.

They didn't bring a thermos, not a stakeout one. Big. Beast and Hulk carried the carboy between them, then McCoy heaved it at Phantastique, who spiked it into the blob. It took a moment, and then it suddenly froze. She focused her hands, and it burst into chunks.

Wanda lifted the pieces into the air, spinning and separate. Several researchers in lab coats arrived with containment boxes, while a golf cart hauled a larger bin. Sam took photos as people gathered samples.

Barnes seemed to have been acquired himself, and given she was focused on his left arm, probably by a cyberneticist. Natasha dismounted from the tree.

\--------------------------------------

She unlocked the door to equipment storage, pulling out the ball cart and the jump ropes. Grabbing the pole, she pulled down one of the basketball hoops. She returned the pole and locked up the storage room.

Footsteps. She didn't turn, but they weren't any of the girls. Wrong kind of shoes. It was a group. How had they gotten in the building? She turned. Stupid question, which the shoes should have stopped her from asking. Respectable people didn't need access cards or pin numbers.

She opened her stance, let the intruders believe she trusted them.

"Ah, you are here ahead of time. Good, we wanted to have a few words." The people with the speaker nodded. "Have you considered how you might influence these young women? Inadvertently, mind." She continued. "It's commendable that you've taken the interest, but really wouldn't it be better for them to have access to a role-model?"

Naturally, they didn't expect to be interrupted nor not-interrupted, so she let herself drift back towards a wall. If they noticed they'd think it was a concession on her part. She needed time to let the girls know their safe place wasn't.

She really wondered at how they thought mutants were dangerous, and yet this was how they came for her. Maybe they hadn't watched enough monologues. Not that they thought they were two-bit comic book villains. Showtime. She sprung.

Landed perfectly on the wall and scrambled up. A nice tall room was optimal. Rule one, get away. They could be armed, they certainly were dangerous. "How much research did you do?" Fear could be useful. Especially if it peeled them apart. Divide.

Words were all they had. Right now. They realized it pretty quickly, and turned heel to salvage their momentum.

She pulled out her phone and sent the text, letting the girls know not to come. She gave herself some time then to run, spring, and burn off the anxiety.

\----------------------------

Steve worked out in the gym, according to Natasha's training program. It was more full-body than punching a heavy bag, though Steve stuck to kicking instead of thigh chokes. Either was likely lethal barring enhanced enemies, not that they were infrequent. Mass, sudden acceleration. Natasha had taken it as a personal affront that Steve had fought WWII with precious little instruction, and was less impressed that SHIELD hadn't taken care of the oversight before the Battle for New York.

She had a point. Steve had been unexpected; between paper records sparse even before archival loss followed by myth-making across seven decades, assumptions were made.

Some things didn't change that should. Steve bopped the buzzer button, and a HUD started the critique. She was aware of most of the points made and considered how to train against them. People had begun confronting mutants. Steve had learned 'never again' on coming out of the ice. How quickly never returned like an asp. Naturally, they picked mutants with limited powers. Just people living their lives.

No one had been killed so far. Steve prayed that was still true; what they didn't know could yet hurt people. They, the Avengers, couldn't do much without instigating a backlash. It was pretty amazing, given the destruction in DC and then the revelations last year, people hadn't turned on them already. One could think they caused more trouble than they solved.

\-----------------------------

Clint swung over the middle of the net desultorily. He didn't leave the trapeze set up for more than a few days at a time; it was good practice striking and setting it up. He was almost good at it now. One was too few, he'd come to realize. They didn't have anyone to hold the safety lines making for a bust at team building. He switched to a knee hang, pumping with his upper body. He gripped the bar and pulled a few changes before swinging out into a dismount and somersault, landing in the net and popping into a bit more business before swinging over the side.

He headed for the elevator, ready for a shower. After a battle, it was good not having to drag everything home, let it sluice down the drains, but this was just his past and some sweat.

\------------------------

The old man wore a suit that, despite its age, looked good though cut for a man in his prime. The walking stick was even older, perhaps an heirloom, brass patinaed to nearly the same color as the wood. He consulted the building directory and then walked slowly to the elevator.

He stepped out of the elevator, walking to the door with painted glass. He knocked on the wooden frame with the knob of the stick before opening the door.

"Sir, we're closed."

The old man smiled. "You've been very open about your message."

"Denise, you may go."

The administrative assistant collected her things and slipped out the door, relocking it.

"You didn't even have to say Mutant."

The younger man, relatively, grinned. "People are very clear about problems. They just need a nudge."

The walking stick lept and struck the smile off the man. The blow was not too hard. The rap against the man's thigh was harder, and the strike against the opposite ankle harder still. The old man wasn't exerting himself, though his hand was empty. He had practice, knowing how much force a body could take; that wasn't his goal today. Sending a message, physical as it was, didn't require a lot of damage except to pride. It was more effective to provide a taster, let the victim fill in the dots. What might have been, in addition to not supplying a martyr, used the psyche against the body. Erik had learned that long ago.

He drew the stick back to his hand, looking it over. Blunt trauma was easy on weapons. He unlocked and opened the door without touching it. He stepped out, almost closing the door. Erik took the stairs.

\------------------------

Xavier was frustrated with this attack. Magneto and The Brotherhood were a distraction when there were very real problems. There were aliens en route that thought humans were little more than escaped lab animals, humans who believed mutants weren't people-- he and his school did not need the poor example of mutants who considered themselves a new species.

The X-men were fighting in good order, and Jean had gotten the students off to hiding. Her powers allowed her to act from a remove, though Miss Pryde might be a bit of a handful. Good practice for her, both of them. At least with Erik and his crew, he wouldn't need to implant the image of a destroyed mansion. He winced as Cyclops carved through one of the topiaries. Rogue really needed to embrace her power instead of depending on the set she'd acquired. Not that the current Brotherhood was so promising.

Magneto's helm popped off like a champagne cork, and Charles' head was full of emphatically presented information. Really, Erik needed better reading material if this was his best strategy. He supposed it did mean Magneto could scrimp on a danger room. Charles let his reach extend down the connections Erik had made.

Gideon Malick. An industrialist from an old British family, one that hadn't needed cash infusions during the Gilded Age. They had made alliances over the years. His time on the World Security Council was suggestive, including that he'd not been present when Pierce and SHIELD had collapsed from HYDRA within. Still advising the American President.

Magneto scooped up his helmet with his power, replacing it. He'd made a parting filthy recollection first. The mental shield cut it off like a peepshow. Charles gave him and the Brotherhood cover for their escape.

\--------------------------

Andrew smiled as Coulson entered, because for all that he wasn't wearing a suit and there wasn't SHIELD anymore, this was Coulson, not Phil. "What do you want to talk about?"

"I don't. Still, I appreciate the need." He pulled out a very flat yo-yo from a pants pocket. He slipped the loop over a finger and gave a couple of throws before continuing.

Andrew made some notes because this part always sounded more like a sit rep and was dense. It was interesting; there were no yo-yo tricks today. When the words stopped coming, Andrew prompted, "Of these, which do you consider the most important?"

"The conflict between Fury continuing a program I shut down and being glad I didn't leave Clint behind."

"Could you break down the second half of that?" The way he phrased it- Coulson had been in the Army and then SHIELD for a very long time.

"I didn't remember him. The process had side effects, the reason I shut it down. They could be managed by manipulating memories. I was not like the test subjects."

Phil had been dead. The test subjects were terminal. He didn't know more about what they'd come to call Tahiti. However, cheating death in the context of SHIELD suggested Agents without anything to lose. "Your SHIELD memories weren't compromised."

"Nick needed me. That's why he brought me back."

Andrew noted Fury vs. Nick on his paper, placing 'continue' and 'need' next to them.

"I think he did it on purpose."

"Brought you back."

"Made me forget Clint. I thought he'd stopped second-guessing me."

Now that was interesting. "Nick second-guessed you about Clint?" Fury was not known for his trust which, as Director of SHIELD, was prudent, not paranoid. Coulson, Hill, they were exceptions.

"Or he wanted me stubborn. Just how many layers of rings inside rings has always been a thing."

Andrew thought Phil was backpedaling. Though, both might be true. "So, you wouldn't have used Tahiti, and you're glad to be back."

Phil nodded. "Clint thought I was dead for too long."

Andrew considered his professional training and the nature of SHIELD. Perhaps later, he'd learn an optimal amount of believed dead time for a husband.

\------------------

"Thanks for helping me out today." Sam put his water bottle back into his crossbody bag.

"It was my pleasure. The kids were fun." Clint walked briskly.

Sam nodded. "But too much for one adult." Miss Maud was clearly extraordinary, though she had started taking on assistants such as himself just so the boys didn't feel self-conscious. She'd had a great-grandchild eager to see the world and had to catch a train.

"Yeah." Clint was grinning, possibly from lobbing basketballs from increasingly ridiculous places, nothing but net.

"I'm giving her your number. Just saying." They got onto the subway. "What's up with the net?" Sam had been wondering for a while, ever since it returned and disappeared again.

"Nothing."

Yeah, that was something, all right. Clint had been in play when SHIELD came tumbling down. When Steve, Natasha, Maria, and he had pulled SHIELD away like a mask. He deployed one of his mom's specials, a look that strongly advised the conversation wasn't done.

"You really can't go home again. Well, Iowa, but that's not home, not where I grew up."

Sometime, he would learn not to go pulling threads. "That is a circus net? You--" Not today.

"Ran away and joined the circus. I know, who does that? At least two people." Clint paused.

Sam took inventory of the compartment. Your team marksman stops like that, you pay attention. It was an internal, not an external conflict.

"It was a wild hair." Clint dismissed.

"Looks pretty serious." Sam judged his words. "A wild hair would be a trampoline." He'd have gone with bouncy castle, but thought better of it. "Surprised I've not seen Natasha up there."

"She's been busy, tracking stuff, cleaning."

Sam considered they were people that pulled on strings and paid the costs. He'd learned that HYDRA and the Red Room intersected; Natasha wasn't for loose ends.

"And what, would she not let go until she found out?"

Clint snorted. Sam wondered whose it was first, Clint or Natasha.

"Ever wonder why flyers are families? It's because training takes multiple people."

"Then you train us to do that first. Let me guess, safety equipment needs people to work it." The EXO program only started diving into pools. You needed practice with more complicated maneuvuers that took more time than gravity allowed.

Clint blinked at him.

"Together isn't just for in the field. Might not be an I, but there is an M and an E in team."

\---------------------

Pepper watched President Guzman sign the Genetic Data Protection and Privacy Act into law. A think tank had worded it, so the most obvious applications related to health insurance, now that genetic testing companies were becoming ubiquitous, and also to law enforcement, same. It parsed to hold out protections in other areas as well. Not without a fight. But everything worth having has required someone to take a stand, to deny the status quo. Genetic Data Protection and Privacy should prove a good place to stand, perhaps even a fulcrum.

Pepper smiled, then turned to her next task.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is most closely related to Tesserae, [Ropes and Ladders](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10864575), and [Cleave and Cement](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13077405)


End file.
